All He Needed
by Clez
Summary: What if there was only ever one thing we needed? And what if we found it…?


**Author's Note:** Okay, so I wrote another one already… aren't I weird? Damn straight I am. This one was for the word **_Touch_**; I was going to do another prompt, and then I realised what was going on in my head, so I went with something else, aheh.

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**ALL HE NEEDED**

Her hands lifted and traced back through unruly, lazy blonde curls, and he stood there, letting her touch him, his green eyes closing and opening slowly in a drawn out blink, watching her as she studied him. Her hands lowered, stroking over his cheek on one side and his neck on the other, making him shiver just for a moment, and only a moment, even as they kept sinking, catching at the first fastened button of his shirt, freeing it. Her bright blue eyes never left his soulful ones, even as she continued her silent task. Her skin brushed against his, and he breathed in deeply and slowly to keep himself calm, and still. Fingers brushing over his chest and stomach, she leaned forward, and captured her lips with his, in a slow, passionate kiss. He did not waver, tasting her in his mouth and greedily wanting more, even as he failed to hear the sound of his holsters falling harmlessly to the floor, already forgotten. His waistcoat and shirt were not long in following.

Tom somehow missed how they travelled to the bed, never far from one another, faces close and lips almost always touching; locked. His hair played over her brow teasingly, in a ghost of contact, as she lay under him on the sheets, her hands playing over his bare arms, making the hairs rise. He breathed in her scent, relished in her flavour, and realised he loved how she felt… her skin was soft and flawless; ageless. He could feel it against him in numerous places… her hands, her stomach and hips, even as she cupped his face tenderly, in a strangely affectionate and caring manner. Pulling back, he looked into her eyes, not saying a word, and catching his breath. She gently pulled him down to her, kissing his jaw and neck, but never going further; she would never hurt him. He knew that… he had known that for a long time now. Tom trusted Mina Harker with his life, and beyond.

Time passed them by, slipping away, and bringing the depths of night; up above the Nautilus, the sky darkened to an inky black, and clouds covered the stars as if promising rain, or a storm. The submarine was surfaced, and the light from the peeking moon intruded the vampire's cabin, playing across the spy's shoulders as he supported himself with one arm, relying on his own strength to keep him raised suitably, the other stroking back Mina's hair, before he kissed her again. The contact was growing in passion and want; need and hunger, and he could hear his own heartbeat in his ears; the blood pumping through him, and no doubt calling out to the woman below him. Still, Mina resisted her nature, and he admired her for that strength… that power over her instincts.

A light sheen of perspiration beaded his brow, chest and back, still feeling her against him and never wanting it to stop. All he wanted was her, and in that moment, that was all he had. That was all he needed… maybe it was all he would _ever_ need.

Tom Sawyer didn't know what he would need tomorrow, or next week, or the next year, but this moment was all that mattered; at least that was what he told himself. The world could end tomorrow, and so long as he had this moment, then he would face it. She was giving him strength, and supporting him, when both his arms could not, one of her hands looping under his shoulder and brushing over the back of it possessively almost, his breath teasing over her neck as his head lowered. His eyes closed, and he let his brow touch her neck before he kissed it, softly.

Her touch meant more to him than he had ever realised… it was like nothing he had ever experienced. He had first felt it in Venice, even through her glove. Her tender caress after he had wounded his head, her eyes carrying a light concern that he had never seen in women like her; women like her weren't supposed to notice men like him…

But she had. She had accepted him; taken him for what he was. Where she took him, he suddenly cared very little. All that mattered, right then, was her touch, and her passion.

For as long as she would accept him, Tom would be at her side… and anywhere else she longed for him to be.

She was all he needed.

Just her.

**_Fin_**


End file.
